


Tell Me Where It Hurts

by hoxadrine



Series: Songs About Jane [2]
Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Inspired by Music, Marriage, Mild Sexual Content, Other, Romance, Romantic Fluff, Space Opera, slightly AU, unapologetic fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-13
Updated: 2016-07-13
Packaged: 2018-07-23 17:51:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,162
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7473993
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hoxadrine/pseuds/hoxadrine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Alliance, the Council, Cerberus, they don’t care about her. But he does, so they can go to hell.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I had a dream of something like this a few days ago and I woke up with this song—which is also my alarm tone—so, well, here goes something.  
> Inspired by the lyrics from Garbage: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xwkC5zG6J9Q

With the sun blazing and warming up her face, she left behind the man she thought she was starting to like. That same handsome man that, she thought, who was starting to _love_ her.

She thought that maybe, if he would have said to her what he really wanted... maybe she wouldn’t have to watch through the window as the bomb exploded and embraced a big piece of Virmire’s surface.

And Shepard opened the door and entered into the cargo bay when—she _thought,_ again—nobody was there. But Ashley and Liara were, the asari whispering low and soft words while Williams was assaulting Kaidan’s locker violently, strands of dark hair coming out of her tight bun, her face flush and heated.

Shepard cleared her throat for the girls to acknowledge her presence, but only Liara turned to her, Williams just stopped her assault. Though Shepard didn’t need to see her face to realize how hurt and angry she was. “You’re done for the night, Chief, and take the next day off.” She said in her Commanding tone, hands clasped behind her back.

Ashley looks at her through her shoulder, but when their eyes meet, she looks at her blank expression for a moment and then she says nothing back, only giving a sharp nod at her direction before joining Liara at the elevator.

When there’s only silence in the room, Shepard leans onto Kaidan’s locker and sighs into it, with her forehead brushing over the cool metal. And to her surprise, she felt nothing. No anger, no misery, no tears; only the slightest pang of frustration and something very close to guilt.

A soft click and the noise of a door opening take her out of her thoughts and when she turns to the sound, she meets the gaze of the only person remaining in the room. Garrus leans beside the door of the Mako, taking a full minute by just watching her with arms crossed and a hard face that shows nothing in its features, but also reflects her own stare, showing _everything_.

He leans his head to the open door of the Mako and she obliges, confident steps crossing the room. She gets into the tank and he follows her in right away.

It’s only when she’s hiding inside that she hides her head behind her hands, and it’s only when Garrus closes the door that she starts punching the seats and kicking the floor and howling in frustration, doing her best to shake that feeling away.

He just stares at her, arms hanging between his knees and it’s just when she goes limp in her spot that he talks. “You already know that it’s not your fault.”

She cracks one eye open and looks at him, “You know what really freaks me out?” Garrus answers by leaning his head a little to the side, “Ashley loved him, but never did something to make him notice her.”

Shepard snorts, suddenly feeling annoyed and not really wanting to talk about the relationship between her subordinates, but a humming sound from the other side of the vehicle confirms her that he hadn’t been expecting that remark from her. So she raises a hand and pinches the bridge of her nose, “What I’m trying to say is… if only people would say what they really want, probably it would all have been different by now.”

And Garrus sighs in understanding, but even she can feel her words sinking in the small compartment. It’s after a long moment that she feels the vehicle shifting slightly and a heavy figure is taking the seat beside her, imitating her posture, head leaning back into the seat, arms relaxed in the sides. She takes a breath and opens her mouth to say something, but he speaks first. “Some people don’t know how.”

Shepard sighs heavily in response, and there are no more words necessary, because he’s right. And it’s almost like a confirmation of his words when she leans into him and rests her head on his shoulder.

It’s not after a long breath when he doesn’t move, but still rests one of his cheeks on the top of her head, and she has to admit that he’s definitely right.

* * *

She takes a sip of her beer and wipes her mouth with her other hand, letting them rest on the top of her knees and leaning heavily on the feet of her bed. Everyone is having their last sleep before reaching Ilos and preparing to have what it could be their last mission. And she feels so tired, but sleeping is not an option for her.

Luckily, it’s not an option for Garrus either, who’s now sitting next to her with his own beer, their shoulders nearly pressing together. And in the middle of their silence, she wonders about how Ashley might be doing, and how Liara is dealing with everything.

Both of the girls are now trying to cope with the grieve over their loved ones, and she wonders about that. Because she had been loved before, but she never knew how to feel about it. She knew how to feel about sex, about friendship, about partnership, but never about _love_.

Maybe that entire thing about love is not about just caring, but acting. And probably it’s not about just saying it, but expressing it.

His warm voice takes her out of her thoughts, “So, after this mission, what’s next for us?” He asks, and she unintentionally raises an eyebrow, because that question is only loaded with more questions.

“For _us_?” And she has to ask that, but she takes a sip of her beer to cover her growing smirk and take hold of the nice warming feeling gathering all over her chest.

“I know that the Alliance might send you to a lot of places, but…” he relaxes next to her, outstretching an arm over the bed behind her and taking a drink, “You’re a Spectre now. And I was thinking about going into the same road. Returning to C-Sec would be really boring after everything we’ve been doing over the galaxy.”

She lowers her bottle and looks at him, “What are you trying to say, Garrus?”

He shrugs, making their shoulders brush together with the movement, and she realizes how close she is to him when she sees her own reflection in his bright cobalt blue eyes. “I don’t know what tomorrow will bring for both of us, but if I know something, is that this battle looks like it’s far from over, and I want to fight it beside you.”

This time she is not able to hide her smile, and he returns it with one of his own, his mandibles spreading to the sides and his eyes gleaming with warmth. “I would like that.” She answers, with gratitude all over her face. Eventually, she manages to finish her beer, and the drink helps her to calm her suddenly aching jaw from smiling so much.

Then, she abandons the bottle under her bed and leans her body to him, her head and one of her shoulders going to rest on his lap, and while one of his hands buries into her fiery red hair, her mind drifts to the things she had been wondering all along. About how he just said what he really wanted, and how that thing about love is not much about just caring, but acting.

* * *

He leans into the airlock door, “Did you send the recommendation already?”

“For the seventh time, _yes_ ,” Shepard exhales in frustration, but a little tone in her voice shows him that she’s not really annoyed, “Anderson has a copy, and I’m sending another to Hackett just to be sure. In any case, you could reach them and they’ll know what to do.”

Yes, she’s not really annoyed. For what is worth, she suddenly wants to have more things to discuss with Garrus before he definitely walks away from the Normandy. And if she has to admit that to someone, there is something clenching in her gut on that moment, on that heavy exhale of breath, that’s telling her that she should stop him before he walks away.

He hesitates for a second, but then he steps into her personal space, “You know, my visor only reads vital signs and translates a few things, but I really can’t read your mind…”

And she thinks again about how love is not about caring, but acting, and that he doesn’t need to read her mind or hear her voice to know what or how she’s feeling right now. But she decides to act anyway, her heart racing and going wild behind her ribs when she closes the distance between them, grabs his neck with one trembling hand and presses her lips to his mouth plates.

Garrus goes very still, clearly not aware of the meaning of her gesture, his breath hitching and a hand frozen in the air, but when she leans away she notices that his eyes closed involuntary. “Do what you have to do… but _come back to me._ ” she whispers close to his neck, her voice already trembling with her last words.

They share one last look at each other, barely for half a second, before her eyes turn glassy and his face goes foggy, so she walks away and clenches her eyes shut.

“I will, I promise.” He whispers back, not finding his voice, before the doors close behind her and he’s alone at the airlock.

* * *

It is when she’s floating in the deep expanse of space that she thinks again about how love is not about saying it, but expressing it. And how, even that she hates when people wouldn’t say what they really wanted, now she is choking with her own words in her throat.

Drifting with pieces of debris, with fire and stars and the smell of death as her witness, her mind drifts into Ashley’s intense stare, into Liara hugging herself, into Tali’s helmet reflecting the drive core and Wrex cleaning his shotgun in calm silence. She sees blue sparks and silver debris barely shining around the black void, and she wonders how Garrus will cope with her unexpected demise.

She wonders about how many of her people have to deal with grieving.

And if she has to state where it really hurts on that moment, she would say that it’s not her lungs, clenching and burning for the lack of air. She would say that yes, everything hurts, but mostly the words left unsaid.  



	2. Chapter 2

Garrus pushes her out of the way, and when the rocket hits his face she could only gaze at those colors again; a spray of blue blood arcing through the air and silver plates disappearing behind a blaze of fire, and he falls into the hard floor, his figure so very still.

She drops her weapons and drops herself next to him, her voice only screaming his name before her throat starts to close. Her thigh brushes his through the armor and she slips her fingers to his jaw, making her best to contain all the blue that’s slipping away from him, as if with her hands she can contain, somehow, what was left of his life… of _her_ life.

“Garrus!” she shouts with the remaining of her voice, and when he jolts his eyes open and starts to gulp and choke next to her, she feels how her lungs are filling with oxygen again, and the air tastes like life. “Don’t you dare… stay with me, don’t you dare leaving me, you made a promise.”

And she just said it. What she really wanted. And she knows that, somehow, he understands, judging by the small gleaming in his eyes that lasts barely a moment before his other set of vocals wince and cry in pain.

But when one of his hands weakly grasps his rifle and the other rests in one of her shoulders, pulling her close, she knows that he really understands her meaning.

And when she presses her trembling lips to his mouth plates and he makes his best to press back, Shepard knows that he definitely does, and he knows all the meanings behind her gaze. And there are words still left unsaid, but there are delayed for other moment.

And they didn’t hurt so much right now, because he’s going to make it.

* * *

It’s after they found themselves sitting at the end of her new bed, with their shoulders brushing each other and beers in their hands, that she smiles again and cracks a hearty laugh that reverberates through her room. The noise seems a little foreign to her ears, but the warmth of it it’s not, and much less the figure sitting next to her, repeating a moment they share more than two years ago.  

“So, this is the tomorrow you talked about,” she states, this time without hiding her smile, and his eyes gleam with that warmth she missed so much. “A little unexpected, though…”

“Unexpected, indeed,” he says, not caring about the bottle in his hands and holding his gaze on her, “But surprisingly good… At least, much better than I’d have predicted.”

“Yeah, surely a little disappointing,” she says with honesty in her voice, but her smile turns tender in her lips. He chuckles a bit, taking his time into finishing his beer and placing the bottle under her bed.

“If I were looking for disappointment, I would have found it in any corner.” And Garrus closes his mouth, letting his words sink into the air and into her. And she starts to wonder about the time when words weren’t necessary for them anymore.

And she realizes that maybe that entire thing about love was never something that could be really said. Because both of them don’t know how to say the words, but still, they are very aware of it. They know, somehow, by the way it hangs in the air, and in the gleaming of their eyes, reflecting only each other.

Words are still unnecessary when she rests in his lap again, only the warm feeling of his hand in her hair and the peaceful sound of his breathing mixed with the nice rumble of his vocals. And she stops wondering about things.

* * *

There is no Mako to hide now and she suddenly misses the vehicle. So, after Horizon and after Ashley’s burning stare, Shepard goes to the only place where she can shake away her frustration and rage.

She locks the door of the battery, kicking a crate that gets in her way, and a fist punches the wall, leaving an ugly dent and blood in her knuckles, but it’s not enough. She howls in frustration, emptying the air in her lungs, and she’s a little thankful about the battery being the only place—with the exception of her quarters—free from Cerberus’ bugs.

And Garrus just stares at her, relaxed, with his arms hanging on his knees while she vents her anger in the room. But this time she doesn’t like his posture, because it’s not enough for her to relax, or to forget Ashley’s words.

She glares at him, “So, now’s the time when you say some witty retort about how she finally spoke her mind?” And her tone is harsh, but thankfully he doesn’t seem affected. Probably because he knows that she’s not angry with him.

A full minute passes and his face is hard as stone, and the silence is so heavy without his soothing tones that she thinks it’s going to crush her. So she opens her mouth to say something, but he speaks first, “Are you done?”

She blinks, his neutral tone feeling like a slap in the face, but manages to give a nod in his direction. It’s only after the small movement of her head that one of his arms outstretches to her and his hand opens for her to hold.

She wonders one more time about love being that thing about acting when he pulls her into his waiting arms, cradling her in his lap, placing her head in one of his shoulders and her thighs on top of his.

“She _still_ doesn’t know how to speak her mind. And, _again_ , it’s not your fault.”

And it’s the middle of the night when he holds her tight, and it’s when she goes limp and falls into slumber when she wonders how she managed to sleep before without that soothing rumble in her ear, or without those strong arms protecting her from the world.

* * *

It’s the night before the suicide run into the Omega-4 relay that Garrus finds her curled in the couch of her quarters, arms tightly hugging her knees, and it’s the first time that he sees her cry, her sobs muffled with her face buried in her legs.

She feels the couch shifting a bit when he sits next to her, but she raises her head to look at him when he remains silent. His eyes bore into her, reflecting her flushed cheeks and reddish eyes, but then something flashes in them.

She realizes that it’s not love, but _care_. And everything falls into place when she also realizes that he never said anything, but _expressed_ everything to her. And when all that was left was to _act_ , a three fingered hand raises and a talon starts to wipe her tears away.

“I need something to come back to.” She whispers in what it seems a confession, “Nobody ever gave me a reason to believe that I have something, anything to come back to, anything to fight for…” A glimpse of emerald green mixes with the cobalt blue of his eyes, and she loses herself in the sight for a moment.

“I’m not good with words, but...” He blinks but the mix of colors in his orbs never falters, and he sighs close to her lips before continuing, “I know what you’re looking for. For what is worth, I have plenty of that, and I’ve always had it, lying around here somewhere.” He nods to her surroundings, but his gaze never leaves her.

Her smile grows when both of them feel her shudder at his innocent touch and she snugs close to him, a hand behind his neck, her whole body looking and wanting his warmth. “And what am I looking for?” she asks in a murmur, her breath ghosting his mouth.

His arms pull on her thighs and she obliges, straddling him and holding onto his shoulders, “Let’s save those words for when we come back, Jane.” He answers before trapping her lips in his, holding her legs in place when he carries her to the bed.

And when their bodies hold onto each other in the sheets, she knows that they never needed to say those words to each other, because his adoring gaze talks for him, and her nimble legs embracing his waist states more than what her words could say.

And when he’s inside her and holds her tightly, there’s something about _love_ and _care_ and _adoration_ and _mine_ in her moans and in his vocals, but those words stay muffled in their throats when they kiss fiercely, desperately, swallowing each other’s hearts in the aftermath of their love making.

* * *

Then, there are three weeks after the destruction of the Collector Base and another week after Aratoth, and Garrus gasps slightly and wakes up with her muffling sobs on her pillow, her naked body curled to the other side of her bed.

She feels more than hears his shifting in the bed and his solid body cuddling her, his face hiding in her hair and close to the curve of her neck. “Talk to me.” He whispers close to her ear, warm, reassuring, the tones of his vocals getting into her skin.

It’s only in that moment where she wonders about the words left unsaid, and Shepard knows it´s time. And she turns around, letting those strong arms embrace her, and she clings into his body like an anchor, leg on his hip, hands on his neck, because that’s a little part of everything that he means to her.

“The Alliance, the Council, Cerberus, they don’t care about me, they don’t give a fucking shit about me.” his arms hold tighter on her back and waist when the tone of her voice shifts into something close to anger and to rage, and she sighs deeply to shake that mood away, pressing her brow to his and feeling his soothing warmth all around her.

She closes her eyes for a second, and her mouth moves by its own accord, “They don’t care about me, and I can tell. But you do, so they can go to hell.”

“Always, Jane.” His words are not so clear, because after her sentence he’s kissing her deeply, gripping her tightly, opening his mouth and taking her in, and she responds with the same eagerness, climbing on top of his naked body, hands bracing on his chest, hanging onto him for dear life.

They make love for an uncountable number of times that night, losing and giving a little part of themselves to each other for each time they kiss or just hold their hands together, riding into the endless ecstasy of being there, just them.

And it’s before her voice finally falters after her last orgasm, gazing upon that mix of emerald green and cobalt blue in his eyes, and with the stars behind him as her witness that she says, “I love you.”

He goes still for a full minute and it’s only when she opens her mouth to say something, _anything_ , that he suddenly grabs her back and pulls her to him, shifting into a sitting position, and starts to pound into her fiercely, and they don’t even dare to look elsewhere except into their eyes.

He never manages to reach his own orgasm before pressing their foreheads together and saying in a panted breath, “To hell with everybody else. Marry me.”

She only has the strength to nod shakily, brushing their foreheads in the process, and she swallows all his cries of pleasure and relief and _love_ in her mouth.


	3. Chapter 3

They make a little ceremony when the Normandy is stationed on Illium, but not really for them, because they don’t really need more words or promises than what they’ve already make to each other.

It’s more for their friends, their family, and it’s a little more because everyone needs that small bonding moment before spreading and embarking on what is, surely, the hardest war they’re going to fight.

But Liara and even Wrex managed to assist, and Shepard—actually, Jane _Vakarian_ , but both of them know that nobody’s going to call her like that, and they don’t care—starts to wonder again, and she realizes that maybe, just maybe, that little ceremony is a nice way for her crew to show her how much _they care_ , and she’s okay with it.

But then it’s Garrus who is not okay, a week later, when she makes the heaviest decision of her life and explains to him that she’s going to send the Normandy to Earth with the Alliance.

She manages to keep a hard face while he enrages in her room, bottles exploding in the floor, parts of his armor crushing on the metal wall. “They don’t give a shit about you!” He shouts, vocals going wild with a variety of angry tones in his voice, “What about _us?_ Why do you _care_ about them?”

Those questions are what makes her rise from her seat and take the necessary steps to him, gripping his shoulders and forcing him to stop in his tracks, “Look at me.” She demands and he’s hesitant, but after taking a deep breath, he obliges. “All I care about is you, and that’s the truth.”

“Then, why are you leaving me?” He asks, his words shifting into a whisper at the end of the sentence, as if he’s afraid of hearing the answer.

And she pulls his forehead to meet hers not so gently, but her words are, “Because you once said that you wanted to fight beside me, and what’s next for us is a _war_.” She let the words sink in his head for a moment before continuing. “And if we want to win that war, I need to rally the Alliance and you need to rally the Hierarchy into our cause, you understand that?”

A low keen answers her question. Of course he understands, he always did, but that it’s not making the situation less painful.

And that night, she wonders about if they will ever survive the struggle of the galaxy, but her thoughts drift apart when the room fills with their desperate moans and whispers of _love_ , of _care_ , of _adoration_ , and _mine_.

* * *

And they meet again in the airlock, the last ones to abandon the ship before delivering it to the Alliance, but he doesn’t lean on the wall this time. This time he’s holding her like if she could slip away if he didn’t. And he’s brushing his forehead with hers when he repeats the same words she once said to him, a lifetime ago. “Do what you have to do… but _come back to me_.”

This time there are no tears in her eyes and no scary feeling clenching in her gut, because this time she’s really sure that she can hold to that. And her voice never falters when she answers and repeats the same words he once said to her, “I will. I promise.”

A hum in his vocals makes her notice that he’s satisfied with her confident tone, but he selfishly kisses her before she turns away. The cool metal of her ring brushes with one of his mandibles, making it flutter slightly, but when she opens her eyes and gazes at the mix of emerald green in cobalt blue, she knows that it’s a good thing.

The bad things are those months they spent apart from each other. And she wonders if her sacrifice, _their_ sacrifice is going to be enough for the galaxy.

* * *

It is six months later, standing in a Citadel elevator and heading to the docks, when she stares at the screen and the images of Palaven in a blazing fire and smoke makes her heart sink into the floor and her gut clench in fear.

And it’s only Liara and her grip in her arm that manages to hold her in her place when the only thing she wants to do is to run into her ship and fly straight away to that planet, to hell with everybody else.

But when the door opens, she’s suddenly surrounded with dozens of reporters and refugees and officers and _so many people_ that demand her attention. So many questions are yelled around her while she tries to walk through the crowd, and there are so many faces around her, calling for her, that she starts to feel a little dizzy.

Struggling through the docks, she sees her face in every news screen that points in her direction, and her hands turns into fists, trying her best to adopt her diplomatic stance, but her gaze betraying her posture and gleaming in pleads for them to just leave her alone, that she has a job to do, a galaxy to save, a bond mate to find…

Liara is still there, gripping her arm and not letting go, serving as the little anchor she finds through the sea of people, and even Bailey appeared a few meters ahead with his squad from C-Sec, trying to get some control of the crowd.

She shuts her ears close to the cries of “ _Commander”,_ and “ _Spectre”,_ and “ _Shepard”_ , because that’s not her name anymore, and those are not the voices she really wants to hear. And in her struggle, the only thing she manages to do is to look at the faces that surround her, gazing upon pale salarians, and red krogans, and dark humans, and barefaced turians, but her mind is already looking for that glimpse of the familiar blue and silver she desperately _needs_ right now.

And when she finds it, her gasp is ridiculously loud and her heart starts pounding on her chest like trying to hammer its way out through her ribs. And she couldn’t manage to take her eyes away from her bond mate, standing on a reception table to make himself visible from the sea of people that are now filling the docks, a hand gripping the wall to get some balance and his chest rising up and down in a panted breathing.

_To hell with everybody else_ , it’s the last thought that came into her mind before she starts pushing everyone that gets in her way to get to him, to Garrus, to _home_. He jumps out of the table and starts to push his way to her as well, and some of the crowd already manages to move out of her way, helping her to speed up and bursting in a run to his direction.

He has to take a short cut into the lower levels of the docks and she grabs the closest railing, jumping down in a practiced ease, almost like the familiar obstacles in the battleground and barely avoiding kicking the head of a very scared turian that gets in her way, but she keeps running and he does the same, oblivious of the thick crowd, of everything except the distance they desperately need to close.

And they don’t even care for words when they meet, and the only thing she manages to do is to jump into his waiting arms, not even flinching when her chest crushes in his armor and going straight for his mouth and brow, making them spin in their spot with the force of her jump.

It’s then when, with his familiar tones of _love_ and _care_ and _adoration_ and _mine_ , and with his mouth claiming hers that she starts to wonder about how she had been loved before and she never knew how to feel about it.

And it’s only when his hand drifts into her hair and the cool metal of his ring brushing her scalp that she wonders about how she had been adored but she didn’t know if she ever believed it.

And it’s when the cobalt blue of his eyes mixes and reflects the emerald green of hers that she realizes that she had been loved her whole life but she never knew how to take it.

Until he came into her life.

And both of them are aware now that their loving faces are now on every screen in the Citadel—and, probably, the galaxy—but they didn’t care at all. _To hell with everybody else_ , she repeats in her head.

Here, in each other’s arms, Jane and Garrus Vakarian are in their own heaven.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's it, with a small melodramatic space opera in the end (?). Anyway, I hope you liked this little piece :D 
> 
> And yeah, I know that there are probably *a lot* of grammar errors, but I'm having a huge cold right now and I'm barely up to post this before heading to bed and die for a little while.   
> Cheers!


End file.
